


A Peaceful Chat

by Zebra (DQueenie13)



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DQueenie13/pseuds/Zebra
Summary: "I consider myself happy, dear. I just…”“Wished I was here with you,” Deliford finished for her. “And now, thanks to the crew, I am here.”Deliford and his wife make up for lost time.





	A Peaceful Chat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Golonzo Hub's Weekly Challenge, "A rainy day."](https://twitter.com/GolonzoH/status/1125249747525230592)

As rain pattered against the windows and roof of his family’s estate, Deliford and his wife sat together on a couch, enjoying each other’s company in silence. Although Deliford rejoined the crew after the whole incident with Cagliostro and the Alchemist Guild of Helmuth, he now found himself spending most of his time at home rather than with the crew.

_You’d better be spending your free time letting your twisted ankle rest up—it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? 6-8 weeks for recovery? You stay where you are! And don’t even think about rejoining the imperial army or any dumb stuff! We’ve got you covered!_

This was the latest letter from Gran and Djeeta, and with the letter were several satchels that added up to three million rupies. In the past, he attempted to protest how much the crew gave him, but the response he got was, _“This is a drop in the bucket compared to how much we make in the slime mines! No take-backs!”_

Even so, it didn’t sit right with him to be getting free rupie handouts when he wasn’t earning it with his own two hands. Besides, there were even older crew members who didn’t get as many injuries as he did. So why was he always the one finding himself sitting out of missions?

“Is something wrong, dear?”

Deliford quickly shook his head, trying to ease his wife’s worries. He burdened his family enough—no need to make them worry even more. “It’s nothing.”

However, she was not at all convinced and gave him a disappointed pout. “Deliford, dear. You should know better than to try and lie to me.”

Deliford couldn’t help but feel a grin spread across his face. “If you keep pouting like that, you’re going to have the mean grandmother look in no time.”

“A _grandmother!_ ” She huffed in mock indignation. “Neither of us are anywhere close to being one! No matter how much you complain about your age!”

A few years into their marriage, the two of them agreed that having children was not their destiny. Though making this decision left them disappointed, it was something of a blessing down the line—without children, they were able to support his parents after a bad bout of illness left his father crippled and unable to work.

 

He sighed again, deciding there was no point in dragging this out any longer. “I know this is just how the crew is, but… I can’t take their hard-earned money if I haven’t earned it with my own blood, sweat, and tears. They write this off as a small expense, but I know that they aren’t _that_ rich. Three million rupies is about a fifth of their savings. They can’t just—they can’t just _give_ that to me!”

“Deliford…”

“Are they going to do this for every sob story they come across? They can’t! Those kids are… They’re too headstrong, though. Every time I try to refuse them, they give me these sad puppy eyes and cry about how I need to support you, Mother, and Father… And I end up caving anyways.” Deliford sighed, burying his face in his palms.

He felt a gentle hand run up and down his shoulder in consolation. “To me, dear, it seems they understand how torn you are between accompanying them and being at home to be with us. They want to give you enough to survive on so you can be with us without having to worry about money.”

“But…”

“Besides,” she cut in, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “weren’t you the same exact way with your parents?”

Deliford blinked. “Was I?”

“You don’t remember! You practically—no, literally—carried your father into the house and into bed when he tried to go back to work! When your father protested, you insisted you could provide for the three of us yourself.”

“Did… did I, now?” He scratched his head awkwardly.

She gave a triumphant smirk. “So it seems to _me_ that, maybe, those kids are learning from _you_. They’re taking after you like baby chicks! You’re a father now!”

Deliford laughed heartily at her jest. “Then wouldn’t that make you their mother?”

“Gran and Djeeta’s hair colors aren’t too far off from ours, now, are they? If we really tried, we probably _could_ pass as their parents.”

After pondering her statement with a hand to his chin, Deliford snatched a picture the kids sent to him. Lyria stood in the center, with Gran and Djeeta on either side of her and Vyrn sitting atop Gran’s head. He looked from the picture, to his wife, into the mirror behind them, and back to the picture.

For a few moments, the only thing they could hear was the rain and the muffled laughter of his parents as they played a board game in another room. Finally, Deliford conceded, “You’re _right_.”

“Of course I am, dear.”

“So… you’re probably right about what them being just like me.”

“Of course I am, dear.”

He set the picture with the sigh; this time, though, a smile formed on his lips. Picking up one of the teacups on the table in front of them, he took a sip. “You always brew the best tea, my dear.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I must admit,” he began after a brief pause, “I expected you to say, ‘Of course I do, dear.’”

“Of course you did, dear.”

When he gave her a disapproving glare, she burst into giggles, and Deliford quickly found himself laughing alongside her. He had to put down his teacup in its saucer lest he inadvertently spill its contents all over himself or the upholstery. The two laughed and laughed until they ran out of air and their jaws were sore.

As he righted himself to catch his breath, he gasped, “I don’t think we’ve laughed like this since we were newlyweds.”

“Life got in the way,” she agreed.

 

The two stared out the window in somber silence, all too aware of the time that had passed them by. Finally, she continued, “But even so, I’m grateful that we can sit here together now. You’ve made enough to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. I consider myself happy, dear. I just…”

“Wished I was here with you,” Deliford finished for her. “And now, thanks to the crew, I am here.”

She edged closer to him and he shuffled over so she could lean her head on his shoulder. Wrapping one arm over her shoulder, he rested his hand on the top of her head as he leaned his head on hers. With his free hand, he found hers—his fingers, rough and calloused from many years of training and battle, intertwined with hers, rough and calloused from many years of housework. Together, they sat in silence, basking in each other’s warmth and letting small gestures of affection make up for years of lost time.


End file.
